Page 16 of Avenging Azalea

He didn’t say anything, which was telling. Someone was coming to collect, but who and how much wasn’t my concern.

“Check the house. Keep anyone else here under guard in a back room until Mr. Carmichael and I are done speaking.”

Six of my soldiers, wearing their all-black military uniforms, walked into the home. A scream was quickly silenced, and a few seconds later, Naji nodded that the house was clear.

Stepping inside, my men dragged Mr. Carmichael behind me as I turned on the lights. The bare bulbs flickered, the orange glow adding to the ominousness of the night.

The living room was practically bare, with only a couch and a single chair, while dozens of scented candles made me want to gag.

I sat down at the small kitchen table and placed my gun on the sticky surface as Maurice forced Mr. Carmichael to sit across from me. His eyes darted around, looking for an escape. This was definitely not his first rodeo.

“Do you know who I am,” I asked casually. Neil shook his head. “Let me see if I can jog your memory. You lost half a million dollars in a high-stakes poker game to Dimitri Mikhailov.”

“I paid that debt,” he said, and my hand flexed.

People like him disgusted me. Stepfather or not, the callous way he spoke about Fawn made my blood boil. I lifted a finger, and Maurice punched Mr. Carmichael.

His head snapped to the side, and tears ran down his cheeks as he blubbered. Good, if he thought he was going to die, that worked in my favor.

“Did you really believe that one teenage girl would be enough payment for that debt?”

His eyes slowly lifted to mine, and there was a pain in them that I couldn’t quite decipher.

“You already took the most important thing I had. What else do you want?”

That was very interesting phrasing. Fawn had been reduced to a thing, but he obviously cared. Mr. Carmichael was a conundrum. I looked around the kitchen and sighed.

“Well, I was going to say money, but that appears to be the equivalent of drawing blood from a stone.” Leaning forward, my leather gloves creaked as I placed them on the table next to my gun. He gasped and clenched his eyes tight when I picked it up and pointed it at his head.

It took a few minutes, but when the gun didn’t go off, he cracked one eyelid to look at me.

“You tempt me to put a bullet right between your eyes,” I drawled. “My trigger finger is itchy.”

“Please, I’ll do anything. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen. Do you want to fuck my wife?”

What the fuck is up with this guy?

“No, I don’t want to fuck your wife.”

He licked his lips, and a wild desperation settled in his blue eyes. Shaking my head, I set the gun down. He slumped in apparent relief, but it was definitely too soon for that.

“Your stepdaughter tells me that she has a brother…George.”

Mr. Carmichael’s eyes went wide at the mention of his son.

“Yes,” he stuttered. “Please don’t hurt him.”

“So you beg for your son’s life but traded your stepdaughter to pay your debt. Very interesting. Did you beg for her life?”

“I did. I never wanted Fawn to leave. But Cesare said she was the only thing of value I possessed. Please, I’m begging you, I thought my debt was paid. Don’t hurt my son.”

“I’m not going to hurt him.” He sucked in a deep breath. “But I am going to take him.”

“What?”

Maurice held onto Mr. Carmichael’s shoulders as I stood. I picked up the gun and stepped closer before putting it to his temple.

“Listen carefully, Mr. Carmichael. Can I call you Neil? Since you’re going to end up giving me both of your children, I think I should be able to call you by your first name.”